Help
by Wufeisgirl
Summary: Updates-not much, though. Just revisions on the first three chapters. More soon!
1. I Didn't Do It!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Gundam Wing…

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Pain. Unbelievable pain. That was all that filled my mind as I woke up. Groggily, I tried to remember how long I'd been in my cell… I couldn't conjure up the number—it had been far too long, and I had no window to tell me when daylight began and night ended. It had been at least a week, though—my stomach told me that much. Oh, yes. They'd kept me alive just enough to torture me, feeding me almost nothing and 'watering' me enough to keep me from dying of dehydration.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. I was going to die in here, and I hadn't even done anything.

(Flashback)

"Hey, you go on ahead, Jaime—I'll catch up later."

My best friend turned around. "Kristen?"

She sounded worried. "Are you sure?"

I grinned and nodded. "Yeah! Don't worry about it—I'll be fine. Besides, I'm just gonna check something out. I'll be back within an hour, okay?"

She hesitated, but nodded. "I'll be waiting."

I turned around, but I could feel her eyes on my back until I rounded a bend in the road. I sighed. Ever since my family died in a bomb raid, I've been staying at her house. I knew that with the war going on, nowhere was safe, but staying at Jaime's place was better than staying somewhere else alone. And besides, we were best friends—newly graduated from high school, and almost done with our first year of college. She was 19, and I was 18, so we were both still young enough that we lived with her parents.

Anyway, Jaime frets too much. I was fine, just a bit adventurous.

There was a fairly hidden path that I had seen a couple of days back, and I really wanted to explore it a bit. I pulled my camera out of my backpack, and headed up the trail, snapping pictures as often as I could. It was beautiful, but someone had obviously been there before me, and recently, too. There were footprints on the ground. So observant of this, I didn't notise the clearing I came to until I was in it. It wasn't exactly the clearing that caught my attention, though—it was what was in the clearing.

"A Gundam…" I breathed.

A Taurus, to be exact. Then, the footprints I had seen earlier had to belong to the pilot. Fascinated, I immediately started taking pictures, completely oblivious to everything around me. Which is why I was completely startled out of my wits when my camera was ripped from my hands and smashed to the ground. "Spy!" Someone yelled, and then I saw no more.


	2. Torture

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Gundam Wing…. :-(

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When I had come to, I was chained to a wall—the fact that they didn't trust me was painfully obvious. I was kept chained to the wall for the duration of my 'stay' in this hell-hole. Food was forced down my throat, and water splashed at my head, forcing me to catch as much of the precious sustenance of life as I could. When I tried to bite down on the hand of the person shoving food in my mouth, I was beaten severely. This continued day after day…. I can only assume they came in the morning, torturing me for hours, but I don't know when midday or night came…. My mind was in a constant haze. I haven't been able to think for (what I can assume) days.

My wrists had started bleeding the second day, and now I was positive that if I lived through this, I was going to have permanent scars on my wrists from the handcuffs. I could already feel broken bones in numerous places. They were harsh, but just not enough to kill me. I rather wish they **would** just kill me… I already wanted to die.

The door to my cell opened again, and I could feel my body tense on its own volition in anticipation of more intense pain. Three men entered, grinning. I mentally frowned… usually, at the most, it was two. Why the change today?

"Ready to talk, bitch?" The one who I had affectionately named "Ass Breath" asked. He always got real close to me, and his breath reeked of something I couldn't quite name.

I clamped my mouth shut. The same soldier chuckled, came forward, and grabbed my hair painfully.

All of a sudden, one of the other two planted a fist in my right side hard enough to make me stumble as sideways as the chains would let me go. The third man came over and quickly released me from my bonds, but any hope I had of escaping scurried away as I found a foot planted in my stomach. Breath rushed out of me in a wheeze, and I landed on my back with a crash that drove out what little air remained in me. I was yanked back upon my feet by the same man who had uncuffed me. Trying to move, trying to breathe—trying to understand!—all I could do was stand there and watch my tormentors. Again and again and again they drove studied blows into my stomach, ribs and face. They were trying to beat me to death!

Slowly, my knees folded, and when they thumped to the dirty floor tiles, they stood back. Each nodded, and the one released his hold on my hair and shirt. I fell forward on my face, gasping, fighting groans that bubbled up despite my efforts. I laid there with my cheek to the floor, eyes half-lidded, struggling for breath. For an instant, I saw double; the world seemed to tilt dizzily.

After a moment, the soldier who had beaten me came forward again. I tensed.

"Are you ready to talk now?"

I stifled a chuckle, but not before it sent a stab of pain through my side. So instead of chuckling, I moaned through my teeth. "I don't…." I gasped at the surge of pain that wracked my body at the effort to speak. "I don't… know any… anything," I grated out, glaring as best I could at the three soldiers, "b-but, even… even if I did, I wou… wouldn't t-tell you."

As I lay there gasping for air, Ass Breath gestured toward the other two, and they came forward again. I didn't even have the energy to struggle as they pulled me up on my feet by my hair and neck. Once I was up, the hold was relinquished on my hair to be replaced on my arms. The second soldier still had a vise-like grip on my neck, almost choking me.

Ass Breath crossed the room to pick something up, an evil glint in his eyes. "I'm getting tired of the… conventional… methods. I want to try something more… original, and archaic." I almost whimpered when he came back with a crossbow in his grasp.

"You know," he started, turning the crossbow almost lovingly in his hands, "these used to be used to kill people in wars and such. So barbaric, isn't it?" When I didn't answer, he grinned maniacally. "But don't worry. I won't kill you." He paused. "Yet." His grin widened, and he knocked an arrow into the crossbow and sighted it. "I want to have my fun first."

I closed my eyes.

Suddenly, a loud, piercing scream filled the cell, and it took me a moment to realise that the eerie, high-pitched sound was coming from me. Nausea twisted my middle. Double vision showed me four soldiers' legs instead of two. I was lying on the ground! Another scream threatened to push past my lips, but I couldn't seem to breathe properly, and I struggled to suck in air. I tried to push myself up, and found enough breath to cry out again. In stunned amazement, I stared at the dark fletching of an arrow stuck through my stomach. With a groan, I collapsed. Something ran down my face. Something dripped in front of my eye.

Blood.

I tried pushing myself up, biting my tongue to keep from crying out as the soldiers looked on in amusement. That didn't stop the nausea from rising within me, though, the violent urge to bend in double and empty myself on the floor. The room seemed to spin crazily, and then everything went black.


	3. OUT!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Gundam Wing… never have, never will…. sigh

Okay. So, it turns out, that in this new thing that has going on, I can't make my paragraphs **more** than double-spaced. Also, I can't put up the key for the scene changes, POV changes, and flashbacks…. So you'll have to bear with me when I put them in parentheses. (Like this for POV Change, and flashbacks).

I'm really sorry…. If I can figure out how to fix it, I will.

Thanks for the… :counts: two reviews I've gotten.

Lots of love, people!

P.S. I'm going to experiment. Maybe, if I put the things in quotes "POV Change " things like that, it might work. We'll find out…. I'll also try, to put more spaces in between paragraphs, to put a period (.) between paragraphs, and then double space again.

You might have to deal with them. Sorry! Also, the first line indents on it doesn't work….

I just uploaded the document, and the period thing didn't work, and also, the quotation thing didn't work. ARGH! I don't know what to do... Three "x"s seem to work, though. I'll do that, instead.

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I woke to the sounds of explosions ringing in my ears. My eyes opened, staring at the sky. The sky! The sky looked strange somehow, blurry. For a moment I couldn't move, and when I did, I gasped. I hurt everywhere. Slowly, I raised a hand to my aching middle, my fingers brushing the arrow lodged there, causing a whole new wave of pain, and coming away red.

Suddenly, tears trembled on the edge of falling, stinging my eyes. I was going to die here, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. With a sob, I rolled over, and then pushed myself to my hands and knees, my head spinning, agony stabbing my side. Vaguely, I recalled that moving with even one broken rib could be dangerous.

More explosions filled my field of sound. /There must be an attack on the base…/ This was the first coherent thought my mind had conjured in the time I'd been in that tortuous place—I was quite proud of myself.

Crawling across the bloody floor, I made my way to the now open door, and I stopped just outside, shocked.

Two of the guards that had beaten here were lying on the floor, dead. One lay on his side beside an overturned stool, a cup on the rough stone floor not far from one outstretched hand. His eyes stared, and a pool of congealed blood spread out from the deep slash across his throat.

The other lay almost next to the first one, staring at the ceiling. Lips drawn back in a rictus bared his teeth, and his eyes seemed full of horror. As well they might have, since a nine-inch blade stood out from between the third and fourth ribs. The soldier's gun lay beside his hand, on the edge of a dark stain that ran back under the stool. The clip was missing.

The whole place fairly reeked of blood, and if there had been any food in my stomach, I'm sure it probably would have ended up on the floor. I swallowed against the urge to sick up. I wanted out. Now.


End file.
